


To Salve the Psyche

by thefrogg



Series: In Search of Peace [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, References to Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrogg/pseuds/thefrogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What came after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Salve the Psyche

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted to my livejournal.

"Why," Gideon barked as he strode back into the UnSub's trophy room, making Emily flinch and back away, "are they still down there? I thought I told you--" and he reached for the microphone.

Realizing what Gideon was about to do, Morgan grabbed the microphone by the base with one hand, and yanked the cord out of the jack with the other. "No."

"No?" Rare anger darkened Gideon's face.

"Gideon--"

"Hotch has been--"

Morgan pushed himself out of his seat, handing the microphone and cord to Emily out of Gideon's reach. "Gideon, with all due respect, Hotch is getting a hell of a lot more than a hospital can offer him right there, and he won't if we interrupt them."

"This is an active crime--"

"Sir, keep the cops out of here and away from the basement, and it can be as active as you want," Emily put in, edging around Gideon to the door. "You have seniority, and it's not like a few minutes one way or the other matters at this point."

"Spencer has three doctorates. One's an M.D., he's a specialist in trauma of all things. Any ER in the country would hire him in a heartbeat. And--"

"Internal bleeding, fractures, concussion--" Gideon started ticking off on blunt fingers.

"He has a concussion, we can tell that from here. That's why he's not getting off the damn cot, he'd probably lose the water Reid's managed to get into him." Morgan glared. "Reid is a trauma specialist," he said again, after a tense silence. "You know - we all know - that Hotch has been running on fumes for a while now. There's something broken inside him. We've all been waiting for Reid to wake up and realize that he's the only one with any chance of being able to fix that something. If it can be," he added almost as an afterthought.

"In the UnSub's basement."

"They aren't in immediate danger. They aren't even all that uncomfortable. I've been watching for the last few minutes, and Hotch is more relaxed now, dehydrated, worked over and _in the UnSub's goddamn basement,"_ and he jabbed a finger at the monitors, "than I've ever seen him. Ever. I've got something broken inside me, too, Gideon, and I know, I _know,_ the only thing that could break me worse than I already am is to find the foundation I've been looking for and have someone destroy it before I believe it's really there."

Gideon's gaze flickered across the monitors, some of the tension and anger draining from his shoulders. 

Reid hovered over Hotch, carefully cleaning dust and blood from his hair, Hotch turning his head just enough to press his cheek against Reid's wrist. 

"Reid knew we were going to be right behind him. He knows we're here. Hotch knows we're on the way, he wouldn't have let Reid uncuff him otherwise," Emily said softly.

"I don't think either of them care we're watching over them right now. Hotch really isn't in any shape to. But interrupting them is not an option." Morgan watched Gideon stare at the monitors, risking a glance at them himself.

Reid had moved and was now sitting on the edge of the cot, Hotch's once-cuffed wrist in his hands. They both seemed to be waiting peacefully, the slow stroking of Reid's hands over bruised and scraped flesh the only movement.

Holding out a hand, Morgan nodded to Emily and accepted the microphone a moment later, straightening out the cord and plugging it back into the jack. A loud click of an orange switch turned the device on, and a faint background hum started up. Morgan's finger tapped on the microphone head a few times; they all saw Spencer raise his head. "You two doing okay down there? Need anything? First aid kit, Gatorade, fresh clothes?"

Spencer laughed weakly, shaking his head and looking back down at Hotch. "Need a stretcher, wouldn't mind the first aid kit, but otherwise we're okay." His voice sounded tinny and warped over the intercom system.

Gideon leaned over the microphone before Morgan could reply. "Good. Sit tight, we'll be down in a few minutes."

"Not...going...anywhere," came Hotch's reply, rough and oddly content.


End file.
